Percy's Nightmare
by mywildimagination
Summary: Percy in English class. Takes place between The Truth behind the Lobster Tank and The Sword of Hades. Oneshot.


I was in class. English class. It kinda sounds like the ancient Greek word for boring. Which was why I was dozing.

Then my friend, Rachel Elizabeth Dare, poked me with a piece of paper. I nearly woke up so loudly that she got caught passing me a note. I faked a cough and covered up the paper.

It was really too bad that she didn't know how to write in Ancient Greek. It took me a while to decipher what part of the note I did.

_The teacher is a - _

I got an avalanche of paper on my desk.

Oh, come on. Are people really so antagonistic towards me that they'll all throw a bunch of notes on my desk to get me in trouble?

Apparently, their plan worked. Our substitute teacher, Mr. Id, came stomping towards me. "What is the meaning of this?" he cried.

"But it wasn't my fault," I protested.

"Oh yes, it was," Mr. Id argued childishly. "You best head to the principal's office."

There was no point in arguing. I stood up, brushed some scraps of paper off my jeans, and left the classroom.

In a way, I was kind of grateful I had been sent out. I didn't have to sit, dozing in that boring English class again. In fact, I'd probably have to thank Rachel . . .

Hold on. What did that note say? The teacher was a what? She was obviously referring to Mr. Id, who was a monster, probably. But I'm usually wrong, so maybe he's some sort of holographic projection Hephaestus cooked up. But that was too far-fetched. Who cared? I was away from him now. But Rachel was still in his clutches. Did she need saving? Maybe she was -

Without thinking, I'd slammed into the office door. Stupid, stupid. I looked around, because usually someone is _always_ around to see me mess up. No one. Weird.

Maybe I should look on the bright side. Hallelujah.

I lightly touched the handle of the door to Paul Blofis's office, feeling a little guilty. This whole year, I'd been trying to be good, so Paul wouldn't be disappointed. What would he think when he saw me plopping down in front of his desk for the first time this year?

I took a deep breath and turned the handle.

Paul had a surprised look when I came in. Then he got it.

"Sit down, Percy," he told me in a more serious tone than I had ever heard him use with me, except for the lobster incident (see my other oneshot, The Truth Behind the Lobster Tank).

The chair in front of his desk was gray, and it looked pretty soft, but I could imagine a rear end getting pretty sore after sitting in it too long.

"So, why are you here, Percy?" Paul asked. At school, he always tried to keep up the appearance of a professional student-teacher relationship with me, which I was grateful for. I didn't want to look like a teacher's pet. But people still treated me like one sometimes, because somehow word had gotten around that Paul was my stepdad.

"Passing notes," I said. "At least, that's what the sub thinks."

"I see," Paul nodded. "But what do _you_ think?"

I bit my lip, wishing I had shut my fat mouth. "Nothing," I muttered. "It'll sound stupid."

"I promise I won't laugh," he said serenely.

I stared at him, for two reasons. One, he doesn't say things like that, and two, he doesn't because whenever somebody _does_ say that, they break their promise.

But I trusted Paul. I didn't know why he said that, but he did, so I said, "Everyone sitting next to me threw pieces of paper on my desk."

Then Paul did something I never thought he'd do: what anyone else would have done. Well, except for Chiron. And my mom. And probably Tyson. He actually started laughing. In a really mean way. He'd never done that around me before. But what was really weird - his mean laugh sounded familiar.

It sounded like Smelly Gabe's.

Suddenly, Paul wasn't there anymore. Instead, Gabe sat at his desk.

He smelled even worse, too, like moldy pizza wrapped in gym shorts that were soaked together in rotten meat.

He kept laughing, and every time he did, he got bigger. The sight of him terrified me as much as a Greek monster.

At one point, he got so big that he broke apart, and Mr. Id was there before I could say, "Styx."

"Percy," he said, staring me in the eyes, "Where is the sand dollar, the one your father gave you?"

I don't know why I answered him, but I did. "In my pocket."

"I'll give you a ding-dong for it." He said it like it was a tempting offer.

"Why would I do that?"

"Because I'm the god of mind control!" he cried dramatically, and he inflated to, until he was twice the size of an ordinary human.

"There's no such thing," I said stupidly, but I wasn't so sure.

"And why should that mean I'm not real?" Mr. Id challenged.

"I don't get it," I said.

"Then give me the sand dollar."

"No."

"Then I'll make you!"

He made me. And then there was a ding-dong in my hand.

"Why even bother giving me the ding-dong?" I whined. "It doesn't make me feel any better."

"Well, unlike _some_ gods, I actually have a conscience."

Some conscience.

"Percy!" cried Annabeth in a girly squeal, kicking in the office door. She was wearing a cheerleader uniform - an outfit I thought she wouldn't be caught dead in. "Guess what? the whole school's splitting up into houses, like in Harry Potter! And guess what our house name is?"

I was too freaked out to answer. But she prattled on anyway.

"ARES!!" Annabeth laughed girlishly, and suddenly the whole Ares cabin came marching in the front office. They looked absolutely murderous.

"C'mon, guys! Let's kill him!" Annabeth squealed, and I looked down at her feet.

A bronze leg and a donkey hoof.

"Annabeth," I said, "how did you -"

And then she pounced, her beautiful blonde hair -

RIIIIIIIINNNGGGG!!!

I woke up to find drool all over my desk. Rachel was shaking me awake.

"Percy," she said. "Come on, we're gonna be late for class."

"The sub," I mumbled. "The sub is . . . is . . ."

"What sub?" she asked. "It's just Mr. Boring here, as usual." (Mentioned in Sword of Hades, if you haven't read it.)

Good ol' Mr. Boring. No Mr. Id. No god of mind control. I checked my pocket to see if the sand dollar was still there. So was Riptide. It was all just a dream.

"Never mind," I said.

We made our way to class. In Biology, we sit across the room from each other. I was free to fall asleep again.

Somebody put a note on my desk.


End file.
